


Deathly Beloved

by Ketakoshka



Category: Final Destination (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Deal with Death, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Immortality, Other, Possessive Behavior, Strange Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:13:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27585268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ketakoshka/pseuds/Ketakoshka
Summary: The same day Kimberly Corman saves the lives of seven others, Alex Browning and Clear Rivers are taking a road trip. However, they were never really in any danger... what would Death have to gain by breaking its deal with Alex? But Kimberly and the new survivors want to drag them in anyway.--A rewrite of Final Destination 2 where Alex Browning never died and instead made a deal with Death to protect Clear at the cost of his own mortality.
Relationships: Alex Browning & William Bludworth, Alex Browning/Clear Rivers, Alex Browning/Death (Final Destination), Clear Rivers & William Bludworth
Kudos: 13





	1. Another Prognosticator

**Author's Note:**

> Is there going to be explicit sex between Death and Alex in this fic? No. If I feel the urge or if someone requests, I'll put that up as a separate story.

_ "–wonder but his heart still knows some fear _

_ Of a simple thing he cannot comprehend–" _

Clear sighs and finally turns off the radio after switching through stations for a solid couple of minutes. "I can't stand that song," she huffs, only to smile slightly when Alex echoes the sentiment.

"So do I finally have permission to buy a couple of cassettes?"

"Only if there's no John Denver."

Their snickering is suddenly cut short when Alex sucks in a sharp breath and quickly averts his eyes from an upcoming billboard. "Maybe we should pull over for a while," he says. "I'm getting kind of hungry anyway."

Clear looks at it but is unable to see what exactly spooked her boyfriend so much; she supposes that it was a sign for him and him alone, and she wishes that she could share that burden. "Car accident?"

"Yeah," he admits and signals that he's going to use the off ramp to the tailgating moron behind him. Far in his rearview, he sees a logging truck, and a familiar shiver rolls down his spine. "The kind kills a lot of people…"

There's a tension in the car, and Alex knows that it's hard for Clear not to suggest that they try and save anyone… Alex knows that if things were different that they would, but they just can't… He just can't.

Clear grips his thigh as they start down the exit ramp, moving her thumb in circles as an attempt at comfort. Alex tries not to flinch when her index bumps into a particularly livid bruise, but he can tell that he's unsuccessful when she moves her hand upwards just slightly. "I love you," she whispers, and he opens his mouth to reply in kind.

"I lo–"

Loud honking drags their attention away from one another, and Alex quickly pulls over on the side of the empty exit ramp to look at the pile up on their sister on ramp. There are dozens of cars backed up by a red truck that swerved to block the entrance… and all Alex can think of is the billboard: an anti-drinking psa of a car accident featuring a red truck.

"Another clairvoyant," he acknowledges, but then quickly shakes his head and starts back off the ramp.

"Another game," Clear replies, and after a moment, she turns away, pointedly ignoring the potent waves of distress coming off of the new clairvoyant in favor of the soft reassurance that Alex is pumping out. Sometimes, she misses when he’d feel everything so strongly, when he couldn’t hide these things from her, but all the same, she’s glad that he isn’t a spiraling mess of worry and unbridled terror anymore.

He’s gotten so good at using his emotions to calm her, to keep her feeling safe and happy…

A loud explosion jolts her forward, but Alex’s hand against her chest keeps her from hitting her head. “It’s okay,” he reassures, and she clings to the steadfastness of his calm. “You’re safe…”

"Do you think they’ll be okay?" Clear asks but continues to pointedly look forward, away from the ballad of destruction behind them. 

"Don't know…" Alex glances backwards, towards fleeing cars and people, and the twisted sculptures of metal and fire. "Maybe they'll do what we never could."

* * *

Clear sighs into Alex's shoulder, and her fingers run through his damp hair, slowly as if savoring this moment of quiet. She can see another new mark just above his boxers, a scratch that looks just as angry red as it did when it was made. There's a bruise on his other collarbone, one so carefully sucked onto his flesh that she feels a stab of possessiveness… But she knows better.

She knows that Alex loves her with his whole being.

She knows that Alex would do anything to protect her.

She knows that these marks are a reminder of his love for her.

"I love you," she whispers, but Alex doesn't stir. "Thank you."


	2. Alex and William

With a hot cup of tea, Clear sits outside of a little café, watching oblivious people pass by. A new book lies untouched on the table, a bribe from Alex to not go off anywhere without calling him first… It would be uncomfortable, if she didn’t know why he was so insistent; she’s not the same as him… She’s not as safe, not without his interference, and she knows that if roles were reversed that he would eagerly listen to her.

No, with the understanding between them, she was planning on spending the better part of the afternoon reading and watching people go by… that is until she's recognized by a cop and the frightened woman with him.

"You're Clear Rivers, right?" the woman asks, rampant waves of unease and fear rolling off with every breath.

"Yes, I am… who are–" Suddenly, Clear can place her… she knows this fear. "You're the clairvoyant from the Route 23 pile up."

"Y-yes, I am, and we need your help…"

Clear looks stricken, a wave of panic bubbling up inside of her. "I-I can't… I promised Alex. I can't get invol–"

"Please!" the other prognosticator cries, drawing the attention of the café patrons. "We don't know what we're doing!"

The woman's eyes are so fearful, so anxious about everyone and everything; she's just like Alex was. "Damnit," Clear hisses, "he's going to kill me…" Abruptly she stands up, grabbing her to go mug and book as she does. "I'm guessing this isn't a leisure experience then."

"Thank you!"

Clear shakes her head and climbs in the back, barely giving the woman or cop a second glance.

* * *

The moment the car stops, the woman who Clear learned is Kimberly Corman dives out, leaving her and Officer Thomas Burke behind. Immediately, she begins shrieking at the boy, Tim and his mother, Nora Carpenter about pigeons. “What’s she doing?” Clear asks. “She’s going to get that boy-” A loud crash and horrified screams sound off in the near distance. “We’re going to need to talk to a ‘friend’ of mine…”

* * *

Clear notices a familiar car outside of the morgue and rolls her eyes. “Fuckin’ hell, Alex…”

Kimberly looks at her with confusion and no small amount of worry. “What? What’s wrong?”

“It’s not a problem,” Clear replies and opens the door for the others. “My boyfriend’s here. That blue Toyota is ours.”

After the others pile in, Clear closes the door firmly, leaving them in a near state of darkness that she navigates with practiced ease. “You might have to push William to open up a bit more, but he’s a pretty good guy deep down… and he’s got one of the best understandings of Death on the planet.”

“You think he could help?” Burke inquires and instinctively reaches out to steady Kimberly when she stumbles in the dark.

“He’s worth a shot…”

Clear leads them into a wide open yet small room with intense ventilation and a roaring fire just past a heavy iron entrance. The gate drops down as the pass, flames threatening to leap out, but Clear looks so unperturbed with it all. No, instead she leads them away from the fire and towards a red-tinged room so cold that the space between the two condenses into mist. They wait there for a few moments, listening to the sound of creaking wheels and the drumming of fingers on metal before a body is rolled out of the redness: Evan Lewis’s body.

The man that steps out behind the wheeled examination table is taller than them all with dark brown skin and hypnotic eyes. He regards the blonde woman with amusement that relaxes his posture just a bit. “Ah, Clear,” Bludworth drawls, smiling rather widely in spite of the suspicious looks being leveled at him. “Alex and I have been expecting you. Come to pick my brain?”

“Did you have to tell him I was coming?”

“Of course… If I didn’t, you know he would have found out anyways…” From the red-tinged room, there’s a loud creak, and the drumming noise gets louder. “You know how worried he gets.”

With a soft, lovestricken sigh, Clear nods. “I know. It’s one of my favorite things about him.” As she passes Bludworth, she lays a hand on his shoulder. “Help them… if you can.”

* * *

The chill of the red-tinged examination room makes Clear rather glad that she wore a long-sleeved shirt under her jacket today. She finds Alex laying stomach down on a metal examination table that’s been covered with a thick, red blanket. His head’s propped up in one hand as the other raps against the single inch that the blanket doesn’t cover. He peers at her through tired eyelids as his kiss-bitten lips quirk into a smile at her approach.

“Hey, Clear…”

She smiles at the husky note his voice has taken on; it’s always turned her on a little, the way his voice turns ragged, the way his voice tends to give out after rough sex. “Hey, sweetheart, had a good day so far?”

Alex hums and holds out the drumming hand for her to take, only answering once she does so. “William and I were talking for a while. He had to go pick up a body… old lady, died in her sleep… and I had a little visitor.” He hisses out a breath when she drapes the dropped second blanket over his marked-up back. “Then William came back and said you were on your way up with… the clairvoyant from the pile up.”

“I didn’t go looking for them. Kimberly, the clairvoyant saw me, and they drug me along to try and save one of the survivors.”

“Did you?”

“No… the kid got crushed under a pane of glass.”

“Wild.” Once upon a time, Clear wouldn’t have imagined Alex sounding so laid-back about a teenager’s death, but then again, Alex is far more relaxed than he ever was before. “They’re talking to William then?”

“Yeah…” Clear presses a kiss to her sleepy boyfriend’s hair. “Are you going to come with us? Maybe you could help…”

Blue eyes open wider than before, and the barest flicker of regret crosses Alex’s face before he reaches out. “You know I can’t,” he whispers and lightly traces her jaw. “I can’t protect them… just you.”

“I want to help them.”

Alex smiles softly and leans forward to press a chaste kiss to her hand. “I won’t tell you no, but please don’t make me have to come get you…”

“I’ll be careful.”

“Thank you.”


	3. The Cost of Living Forever

Clear finds herself leaning against the wall in Burke’s apartment when the remaining survivors begin filtering in. With each one, she finds her assessment about their chances slipping.

Nora’s understandably broken after the loss of her son.

Kat’s a neurotic mess of nicotine, caffeine, and a busy life spent constantly stressed.

Rory's a coked up addict with some serious attention issues.

Eugine's a tried and true skeptic that won't believe until he's seen the cold hand of Death at work.

Burke’s trying his best to command order, but he's not exactly the commanding type. He would never be able to keep order among all of these conflicting personalities.

And Kimberly's a mess of a woman, bogged down with guilt and grief that she's trying her best to push aside in favor of helping these lost souls. But an Alex Browning, she is not.

Clear's damn near positive that Kimberly's not quite cut out to dissect the visions that will continue to plague her until she dies.

As Kimberly tries to explain the rules to these human messes, Clear finds herself nearly wishing that she'd refused to enter the car earlier… but it's too late now.

"–keep these on you," Kimberly instructs and passes out cell phones to each survivor. "If I call you and say, 'subway', I want you to get to a high-rise." At Rory's confused look, she continues, "somewhere a subway can't possibly be or get to you."

Clear decides that she's done watching; this is going nowhere productive. "However, just because you don't all have visions doesn't mean that you can't see the signs."

"Signs of what exactly?" Eugine asks, clearly incredulous and annoyed about this whole thing.

"Of Death's design…" She shrugs off her coat and pulls her long sleeved shirt off over her head. There's a long webbed scar on her right arm. "The last time I ignored a sign–a random gail throwing garbage out of the dumpster and into the road–I was hit by a car. Thankfully, I was wearing gloves, a scarf, and a hoodie, because I was thrown into a glass storefront. If Alex wasn't there, I would have bled out from this alone…

Death never likes to be direct. It's never going to give you a heart attack or a stroke or anything that would constitute a real pattern. Accidents are its forte… If it can make it look like you slipped on spaghetti and a fire escape broke and slammed into your face, or a chain breaks on a logging truck, or an electrical short fucks with medical equipment… it would much rather do that than give everyone the knowledge that it exists."

Rory gives her a wide-eyed look of terror. "If that's the case how have you and Alex survived?"

Clear sighs; she should have expected that question. "Alex and Death… have an understanding, I guess. I don't know the exact specifications of their… deal, but it's not after Alex anymore." She tucks an errant piece of hair behind her ear. "Alex is a really good guy… all I really know is that: he's able to protect me because of the deal. Death still wants to claim me, but as long as Alex holds up his end of their bargain, I'm safe."

Eugine looks more and more disgruntled with each passing second until he abruptly stands up. "You can believe this horseshit all you want, but I won't."

Clear watches as he drops his keys and the 8-ball keychain rolls. 'Fuckin' hell,' she thinks and drops to the ground with Kimberly just a split second before the kayak crashes through the window where Kimberly was just standing. "We need to Death proof this place before you all end up dead."

* * *

It's a half-hour into removing all of the dangerous things that Burke just has to have all over his apartment that Kat decides she needs a smoke. Clear shakes her head but doesn't make a move to stop her; it's far, far too difficult to explain to these idiots that a wound now could put you just where Death wants you. A heavy hit to the head could either kill you instantly or leave you alive for hours but unable to do anything as those who are before you are killed one after another. However, when Nora decides to leave, Clear can't find it in her heart to simply watch. 

"It's not safe if you go," she whispers and holds out a phone to the grieving woman. "But if you need to go… if you really do, please take this with you… and don't panic. Panicking is the worst thing you can do."

Nora nods once. "I… I'm okay if I die. Four years ago, I lost my husband and now my son. If it's my time to go and meet them in heaven, then I accept that."

"Alright, but please take the phone anyway… just in case you change your mind."

"Okay… okay."

* * *

Eugine ends up walking out with Nora, leaving Rory to assist in putting things in the closet. Clear’s in the middle of covering the broken window when she hears a loud crash and the beginnings of a freak out. “A man with hooks!” Rory cries, drawing everyone else over. “I think I see a man with hooks!”

It takes a moment, but there in the shadow cast by hangers and fallen equipment is a man, clear as day. “He’s right,” Clear replies and looks up at Burke. “Call Nora. I’m going to try and catch up with her.”

Clear’s not surprised when she’s the only one who leaves the apartment; Kimberly’s trying to get ahold of Eugine and Burke ahold of Nora, but Eugine left his phone in the apartment… Clear nearly presses the button to call the elevator back up, but at the last second, she realizes that it could do more harm than good and races down the stairs to the lobby.

She can hear Nora screaming, panicking at whatever Burke has told her, and when she turns the corner into the lobby, Kat does the same. As one they rush to Nora’s aid just as the doors close on her head, heading back up to a higher floor; just one floor higher… called by someone other than Clear or the survivors. Her cries are heart-breaking, going back on her earlier sentiment as she proclaims, “I don’t wanna die! I don’ wanna die!”

“Press the emergency stop!” Clear screams, but by then, it’s too late.

Clear and Kat fall to the ground with Nora’s body as the head rises back up with Eugine and the man with hooks. They take a moment, a second to breathe before they too race up the stairs, instead heading to Burke’s apartment when they hear more screaming.

The door is wide open, revealing Eugine with Burke’s gun trained on the other survivors.

“Back up! Back up!” he yells, and waves it at the returning girls too.

“Give me the gun,” Burke tries, but there’s no way that it’s going to just be handed over like that.

Rory tries next, but his words aren’t exactly helpful. “Chill… You’ve just got to chillax, bro!”

In the chaos, no one notices the man who comes to the front door behind Clear and Kat with a brown paper bag of tacos and a six-pack of beer. He looks so nonchalant about the sight and sounds even more so when he asks, “so did someone else die?”

The survivors other than Clear spare a glance back at the newcomer, and Eugine takes that moment to shout, “I’m going out on my terms, you hear me!” He tries six times to take his death into his own hands, but the gun just clicks on without firing.

Eugine sinks to the floor with a loud sob, allowing Burke to take his gun back.

“You don’t keep it loaded?” Kimberly asks incredulously, but when he opens it, every chamber is full.

Rory then offers another possible explanation. “They’re all duds?”

Burke shakes his head. “All six...That’s impossible.”

A soft, broken sort of laugh starts up in the threshold, once again returning to attention to Clear and the newcomer who’s passed her the ‘provisions’ with a strange sort of glint in his eyes. “Humans don’t get to decide when they die…” A twisted grin draws up the corners of his lips in a horrific manic sort of way. “It’s not your turn, Eugine Dix… It’s not your turn just yet.”

“Dude, what the fuck?” Rory replies. “Who the fuck are you?”

That seems to bring Alex out of his mood. “Clear’s boyfriend and fellow clairvoyant.”

Kimberly blinks at him for a few moments before saying, “you’re Alex Browning.”

“The one and only… now I suspect the girls will want to have a shower… and I kind of figured you guys hadn’t eaten yet.” With that, he holds up the bulging bag. “I hope you like Mexican!”

* * *

After a quick shower, the survivors are curled up in the living room, wolfing down tacos and stealing glances at Alex who’s puttering around in the kitchen and fixing less useful safety measures. “Are you going to eat?” Clear asks, halfway through her second taco.

“No,” he replies and relays a piece of duct tape on the outlet. “William and I had an early dinner together; he offered to pick up the night cases again.”

“Oh, where’d he take you this time?”

“You know that new Thai place down the street from where Terry died?”

“He took you there!” Clear looks almost offended. “And I get crappy tacos… such disgrace.”

With a chuckle, Alex comes walking in just as she finishes and cleans her hands with a wet wipe. He sits beside her against the chair and nuzzles up to her side, exposing a raw wound in the junction of his shoulder when his oversized shirt falls down.

Once she notices it, Clear lets out a loud, annoyed huff and grabs a clean napkin off of the table. “Could you not get bit for once in your life?”

“That’s never going to happen,” he replies and hisses in a sharp breath when Clear presses down a little two hard. “It likes to see me all marked up.”

“Still… It worries me.”

He lays his hand on hers and presses a kiss to her cheek. “I know.”

The two of them fall into companionable silence as the others finish up, their gazes riveted on the partners as they snuggle into one another with practiced ease. Clear’s hand finds its way into Alex’s hair as he lays his head on her chest, over her heart; he knows that she could have easily been thrown out of the window, that Eugine could have decided to shoot her, that Death would have come… but that would have broken the deal.

“H-hey,” Rory starts, prompting Clear and Alex to look at him. “Clear said something earlier, but I don’t really understand… How are you still alive, Alex?”

Surprise melts away into a wistful smile as Alex tilts his head more into Clear to expose more of the raw wound. Clear had called it a bite, but from what, the others can’t really be sure. “I can’t explain why,” Alex starts, his voice so soft and yet so loud in the quiet room, “but it’s so very… enthralled by my continued existence. Clear and I just kept getting away, and it kept getting madder until it just…” He shakes his head and slowly pulls out a silver chain from his shirt bearing a black, oval pendant with a delicate, white circle in the middle. “It stopped really trying to kill me and really started trying to kill Clear, and then we came to an agreement. As long as I allow it to adore me, I can keep Clear, and Clear alone alive… I can’t help you all… I’m not that good of a bargaining chip… but as long as Clear is here, I will protect her, and perhaps in doing so, that will protect you.”


	4. In which Everything and Nothing Remains the Same

Come morning, the remaining survivors dress quietly before intending to drive to the station and explain to Isabella why she and her baby need to be kept safe. When Clear explains to Alex about Kimberly’s premonition involving the driver of a white van crashing into a lake, he nods and says, “well from what I heard that’s an understandable impression… but I don’t know if they should be putting all of their chips on this woman. What if Kimberly’s wrong? What if this Isabella isn’t the one driving the car?”

Clear nods. “I don’t know who else it would. She’s the only person who evaded the wreck who even owns a white van.”

“Still…”

That conversation drops off as the others gather around Kat’s three row van, and they all take their places. Kat refuses to let anyone else drive her car which has both Alex and Clear on edge but they don’t mention this to the others. Eugine and Rory are put into the back, and Burke is quickly assigned shotgun. After a moment of deliberation, Alex sits behind Kat with Clear in the middle seat and Kimberly on the other outside; Alex tells her that if they end up rolling, he can help cover her up and if something pierces the back of the car, he can protect Kat without trying.

* * *

Shortly into the drive, the silence proves to be just too much for Eugine. “Y’all want to hear something crazy. It’s not the first time I’ve cheated death. Kid came to school with a knife to kill his teacher. That teacher would have been me, but I was transferred to another school two days earlier.”

“That’s fuckin’ weird,” Rory retorts, shaking his head.

A moment later, Burke says, “You want weird? Last year, my partner and I were heading out when a call came in about a kid who died in a train wreck. Frank let me handle it alone. He died that night in a shootout. If that call had come in just ten seconds later, I would be dead too.”

“My god…” Kat taps her hands on her steering wheel quickly in an almost fluttering sort of manner. “I’ve got- I’ve got one too… So it was last May, and I was supposed to be at a conference at this cheesy little bed and breakfast in Pennsylvania. There’s this major gas leak that no one knows about, and all of the guests suffocated in the middle night.”

“So what happened?”

“I don’t know,” Kat continues. “I never made it. The bus I was on splattered some girl all over the road.”

Clear and Alex share a look. “Was that in Mt. Abraham?” they ask simultaneously, seeming not to notice the weird looks they’re getting.

“Yes, how’d you know?”

Clear flinches a little as she remembers it so vividly. “That girl was Terry Chaney. She was supposed to die on flight 180.”

There’s a dawning horror in Kimberly beside them, a horror that Kat is starting to reveal as well.

Then Rory decides to spill his story. “Do you remember that theatre in France that collapsed, killing everyone inside? Well, I had tickets to go... One night, I’m in Paris, and I’m tripin’ on acid sippin’ lattes and such. All of a sudden, this guy gets wacked by a falling sign.”

“Carter.”

“Wait, that teacher I replaced…” Eugine seems to see what they’re laying down. “Her name was Valerie Lewton… She died in an explosion.” 

“That train accident that saved my life… that was the night I scraped up Billy Hitchcock.”

There’s a somber air in the car, an air that Rory still can’t place. “I don’t understand… who are these people.”

“Our classmates,” Alex cuts in, “and one of our French teachers… they’re the other survivors of Flight 180… the ones we couldn’t save… Not that we didn’t try, but by the time we understood any of it… it was just the two of us.” He turns his gaze to the window, watching the treeline and ignoring the beseeching looks that he knows is coming from at least half of the car… but he won’t share anymore; it won’t do them any good anyway.

Clear notices that Kimberly has something on her mind. “It’s okay,” she whispers, looking the young woman in the eye. “You can share.”

There’s a ragged edge to the breath she draws in, but regardless, Kimberly musters up the courage to spill her dark secret.

“About a year ago, my mom and I were at the mall. I was supposed to meet her outside, but I got caught up watching a news report about a kid that committed suicide. I kept thinking, how can you strangle yourself in the bathtub. That’s just stupid... It felt wrong and yet…” Another ragged breath. “I heard some gunshots and ran outside. Some kids were trying to steal my mom’s car, and she tried to fight them off. She was a fighter… and they killed her. After the funeral, I kept thinking that it should have been me… I guess I was right.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Clear can see the grief-stricken expression on Alex’s face, and she reaches over to put a hand on his leg. Yet she decides that bringing up Tod right now would do more harm than good.

Still, looking at him and thinking about the others… she comes to a conclusion, “when we got off of flight 180, it didn’t just change our lives. It affected everyone and everything around us; if we weren’t alive then…”

“None of you would be either,” Alex finishes, his voice carrying a hollow, lifeless edge to it.

The already somber mood grows colder and darker with each passing second; perhaps someone would have said something, if the car hadn’t crashed.

* * *

Alex finds himself holding Clear down, out of reach of the pipes that busted through the back of the car. There’s one cracked in half, having hit the window just behind him instead of passing at an angle that could have hurt him on its path to Kat. Instead, it’s buried into the dashboard a couple of inches, having just barely missed the hysterical woman.

“Is everyone okay?” Burke asks, having already taken notice of the fence post trapping Kat to the seat.

No one was anticipating the wheezing sounds from the last row of seats.

“Eugine!”

The survivors minus Kat all scramble out of the car to get the teacher out. Alex is positive that Eugine isn’t the next on the list, and if that’s the case how’s it going to take out the ones before him.

He looks up and scans the field; he sees a car approach bearing a few helping hands. The land owner asks if everyone’s alright before calling an ambulance at Clear’s request. A teenaged boy goes to help Kat before calling for his father when he can’t free her. A news van comes careening in just after the ambulance, but Alex doesn’t stay focused on it for long… He needs to go with Eugine.

“Please, let me go with him,” Alex asks, trying his best to keep a level voice as the paramedics load Eugine in. “We’re the only people he has right now, and I don’t think he should have to go alone.”

After a beat, one of the paramedics says, “come on then. We need to get him to the ER.”

With that, Alex hops and shouts, “Clear, take care of the others! I’m going with Eugine!”

“Okay! Be careful!”

The doors shut before he can reply.

* * *

He doesn’t ask it when it appears, but Death tells him anyway.

Kat was killed when the firefighters failed to deactivate the driver’s side airbag before ramming the jaws of life into the car door. They didn’t remove the pipe from the console, causing it to pierce her skull and brain in the impact.

She was smoking again and dropped the cigarette outside of the car when she died. It blew in Death’s wind into a busted open pipe… right into the gasoline leaking from the news van that was in such a hurry to get a story that they not only nearly ran over the teenage farmhand but also ran into a pile of rocks that punctured the gas tank. The van exploded, sending a section of the barbed wire fence through the air… and through Rory.

Alex sighs into the cool touch on his cheek. “You can’t help them… if they want to beat me, they’ll have to figure it out themselves.”

After a moment, he chances one small question, “can you even be beaten?”

But Death doesn’t answer… it never does.

* * *

Alex finds himself posted up outside of Eugine’s door when he gets the phone call that the baby was born; she wants him to come back, to rejoice in this moment and then lead them back to Eugine, but Death has other plans.

As he's dragged into a nearby supply closet, he drops his phone and misses the second call that comes from Clear.

* * *

By the time the others arrive, Eugine is dead, killed in an explosion from malfunctioning machinery, busted ventilation and a cart with a wheel that just wouldn't lock. Alex is there at the edge of the debris with a busted lip and eyes only for Clear.

“What happened?!” Kimberly cries and almost gets to touch his face before Alex jerks away with a volatile hiss.

“Saved Clear’s life,” he snaps which causes the blonde to look at him with rather sad, haunted eyes.

“I was supposed to die with Eugine, wasn’t I?”

“I assume so…”

After a moment of looking at one another, Alex accepts the hug that Clear pulls him into as she whispers over and over her thanks to him for saving her again and again. "I shouldn't have‐" Her fingers weave into his hair and rub at his scalp in little circles. "I should have listened to you… It wasn't Isabella. She wasn't supposed to die in the a-"

"I know," he whispers back, staring over her head at the other two survivors as Kimberly realizes what her vision was of… who was actually driving the car. "Kimberly had a premonition about herself."

"Huh?" Clear breaks away and turns to look at the brunette woman who seems to have come to a decision, whispering something to Burke that they can't hear. There's hope in her heart that has the empath reeling… confused until Kimberly dashes out of the doors and into the ambulance. "New life," she whispers. "Will it work?"

Alex hums thoughtfully as he watches Burke yank the doors open and run after the quickly disappearing ambulance. "It didn't say… perhaps it will, but not for us." Clear looks disappointed. "Hey, we're alright… It didn't hurt me really… and you're safe… and when this is all over, we can go find an actually good restaurant."

"Promise?"

"Definitely."

* * *

Alex and Clear weren't expecting to get a phone call almost three months later from Kimberly's father, passing along a message from the farmer and his family. They certainly weren't expecting to be invited to a picnic, but they obliged.

That's the reason that finds the two of them answering questions about the tattoos on their left ring fingers: lightning on Clear’s to represent the second time he saved her life and a spring on Alex’s to remind himself of how he made– _makes_ her feel.

"So, you're married then?" Kimberly asks, a bit disgruntled.

"Legally," Clear replies, "as of two weeks ago. William was our witness; it wasn't really a big deal."

"We've talked about it off and on since we came back from Switzerland, but we just never did it… It's not like we have really anyone other than William back home, so why have a fancy wedding, ya know?" Alex stops to take a drink. "Are you whining because we didn't ask you to drive a couple of hours just to watch us sign paperwork?"

Kimberly rolls her eyes and shakes her head. "It really shouldn't surprise me with how casual you guys are."

"Brian, will you go check the grill?" his father asks, prompting the teen to jump up, nearly causing Burke to stab himself with a kabob.

“Watch it," Mr. Corman says, smiling all the while. "Those are dangerous."

It's almost enough to send Alex and Clear into delirious fits of laughter, and Burke with a wide grin replies, "I think I've had closer calls than that."

The kid turns around, still walking towards the grill. “Dad, you should tell them about that news van thing.”

Alex looks up to see Death's shadow out by the grill and almost misses Kimberly ask, “what news van thing?”

“The day of the crash, Brian was almost hit by the news van. Your friend Rory pulled him out of the way at the last second.”

With dawning horror, Clear, Kimberly, and Burke turn to see Brian reach the grill.

“You never told me that," Brian's mother chides. "That was lucky.”

The moment lucky leaves her mouth, Alex lets out a quiet sigh of, “you’ve got be fucking kidding me.”

Then the grill explodes.


End file.
